I Wish I had Known
by clarynobleat221bwiththetardis
Summary: John and Mary have just come back from their honeymoon only to discover that Sherlock has gone missing. Now they must find him and bring him home before anything horrible happens to him. Once he is found John must stay with him. The longer he stays the bigger his feelings become for his best friend Sherlock Holmes. But what can he do? He is married to a woman and not just any woman
1. Chapter 1

Writer's note: I own none of these characters. I only enjoy writing them. Let me know how you find it. this is an A/U Sherlock. they live in Washington D.C.

to talk to me find me on tumblr. my name there is the same as here clarynobleat221bwiththetardis.

this will have several chapters. Chapter 2 will be published tomorrow and then the ones after will be published each friday. and by tomorrow i mean Thursday Jan. 30, 2014 see you then lovelys :)

I WISH I HAD KNOWN:

Almost three years ago Sherlock faked his death. John never thought life would go back to normal, then he found Mary. Slowly John began to settle down and sometimes he would catch himself smiling agian. After just a few short months with her, John decided he would ask Mary to become his wife. This of course was a big step for John. He had never thought he would ever marry anyone. Though the thought had passed through his mind from time to time. Usually about his best friend. John always shook that off by laughing at himself, chalking it up to silly adrenalin from the chase of some criminal.

The night he had picked to ask Mary to marry was intrupted. Everything was planned and set just right. The perfect resturant, the perfect ring, and the perfect wine, thanks to a strange French waiter. Before John could finish the question they were interupted by the silly waiter. Getting flustered John turned to tell the waiter to piss off, only to come face to face with Sherlock. This was almost seven months ago. And now John and Mary were married and headed home for their lovely honeymoon.

Dr. John Watson bounced in his seat nervously next to his wife Mary. The plane had begun it's decent on Ronald Reagan airport in D.C. just moments ago. They were finally home. Just a short drive away sat 221B Baker Street and his best friend Sherlock Holmes. He had been away from Sherlock for two whole months. Of course they had video called and texted but that didn't stop John from missing Sherlock more than he had ever missed anything in his life before.

Once the plane landed John took Mary's hand and rushed them to the baggage claim so they would be first to collect. It took them less than three minutes to grab their bags and get in their car. Breathless Mary turned to John. "We need to take our things home before we rush to Sherlock, ok? I need to change and get the smell of that plane off of me. I'm sure he wont mind."

John checked the time on the dash of the car. It was almost two in the afternoon. They were a few hours late. Their plane had been delayed for roughly two hours. He nodded agreeing with his wife, then started the car and drove off the lot. If she had not been in the car John would have sped but since she was almost four month pregnant, he took his time getting home. Each mile home was another mile between him and Sherlock. The anticipation was killing him, John longed to be back at Baker Street. He longed for the smell of the untiddy apartment and the smell of all the old moldy books on the selves. They finally pulled up to their own apartment. John unloaded the bags and carried them up the short flight of stairs in front, Mary smiled when she saw John rocking on his heels waiting for her to unlock the door to let them in.

The door flew open to the spotless apartment, knowing John wanted to leave very soon she went straight to their room to change and wash her face. John dropped the bags on the bed and changed from his jeans and t-shirt to a pair of clean jeans and a nice plain button up and threw on his sweater, knowing Sherlock loved when he wore them. Once Mary was finished she handed the keys back to John and headed for the door wordlessly. He jumped off the bed and ran after her.

Just minutes after getting in the car, they arrived at 221B Baker Street. John didn't knock when he got there. He never did anymore. He just walked in and headed up the stairs to his friend's apartment. John took a deep breath and opened the door to the living room. Messy as ever of course. What else would it be? John had expected Sherlock to be sitting his is chair reading or at the window playing the violin, but he was no where to be seen. John looked at Mary who only shrugged with pursed lips. He nodded and headed down the stairs alone. He went to Mrs. Hudson's door and knocked. After just a few seconds she opened the door. Her eyes were puffy and rimmed with red. Without a word she hugged John close. He knew right away something was wrong. "What is it? What's happened? Is it Sherlock? Is he alright?" John demanded.

Mrs. Hudson took a deep breath and shook her head. "I have not seen him in several days. He just up and left. No note or call, just walked out with a small bag."

John nodded, he knew what that meant. "Mary! I'm going to see Mycroft look after Mrs. Hudson. I'll be back shortly"

Without another word John headed to the car and sped down the street, turning east to Mycroft's office. The drive would have normally taken about 30 minutes but John was speeding, he made it there in less than ten. Not bothering with any secruity John used Mycroft's employee entrance, it lead directly to his personal lobby. Seated behind the desk was a new blonde, she was pretty but he didn't have time to tell her to get Mycroft for him. John barged into the office and saw Mycroft seated at his desk looking tired. "Where is he, Mycroft!" He looked up slowly.

"I don't know. I cannot find him anywhere. We've looked all over the place."

"That's not good enough and you know it Mycroft!"

"I sugesst Dr. Watson, that you check your tone with me, before I have you removed from my office. Are we clear?"

John cracked his neck and took a slow breath in. "Fine. But were is he? We need to find him. Mrs. Hudson says he left _several_ days ago. Do you mean to tell me that you still haven't found him after that long? No doubt she called you just after he left. Did she not?"

"Of course she did. She always tells me when he leaves. Even though I already know of course." Mycroft stood up and walked around the desk to stand infront of John. He placed a hand on the doctor's shoulder. "I had hoped that once you came home he would come out of whatever hole he has been hiding in. Since your plane landed over an hour ago and there is still word I guess I was wrong. Which is a first, might I remind you."

"Well, then we need to call Molly and Greg. They can help us look for him. I will relax untill he is home. Do you understand _me_, Mycroft"

"Whole heartedly Dr. Watson. Now get in your car and call Molly. I, myself will call Gregory. We will all meet at Baker Street in one hour."

With that, they both left the office and headed in their respective directions. John pulled out his phone while climbing in the car. He pressed and help speed dial four, the phone rang three times before she answered. "Oh, hello John, how was the flight? Are you just pulling in? How..."

"Molly, shut up and listen ok? Sherlock is gone. Mycroft can't find. We are meet at Baker Street. Be there in one hour," John hung up with no other explination. She would be there of course. She loved Sherlock and would not let him down no matter what. Molly would never let anything happened to that man.

Back at Baker Street, Mary had written down all of Sherlock's known holding house. In total there were 30. She mapped them out and clustered them in groups to hand out to everyone. Molly and Mrs. Hudson would take the upper city, Greg and Mycroft would take the downtown area, and John would take the most commonly visted of them all, which would be in the center of the city. Mary would stay at the apartment to manage the phones and keep everyone updated on the news. Also she would let them know if he returned home. Once everyone had arrived, Mary handed out the slips of paper. "Text me when you check each place I will then mark it off my master list here. If you find him, call _me_ right then. I will then call everyone else and we will meet at the lab. John you will come get me and we will meet the rest there. Now go, there is no time to waste. He has been gone for five days there is no clue on how he is."

Each group had ten places to search. This would take most if not all of the night. Rush hour was just about to begin. It would take almost an hour to get to the first spot for all three groups. Mary sat and waited patiently. She had texted Sherlock mulitiuple times to not only yell at him for running off but also to tell him that John was coming to get him, and to stay where ever he was now. She had given John the most common places Sherlock visits. If anyone was to find Sherlock Holmes it would need to be John.

After several hours of searching each team only had one place left on their list. It was almost two in the morning before Mary's phone rang again, it was Molly. "Any luck, Molls?"

"Sorry, no. He wasn't at the cove. We are headed back. Could you put on some coffee. We will need it"

"Sure thing. Drive safe sweetie"

Mary slouched in John's old chair. She was exhusated. They had been up early to catch a plane that would wind up delayed for over two hours, then sat in the same spot for 16 hours flying home to only find out that her husbands best friend was missing. Now she sat in the empty, dark apartment just hoping for some good news. Two text came in at the same time both said the same: "Not here. Heading back to Baker Street. Need Coffee"

They had been everywhere. And he had been nowhere. They would need a new strategy. Mary made her way to the over cluttered kitchen and started to make some coffee. It was indeed going to be a long night. The last time Sherlock had done this they hadn't known. Of course he said it was for a case and as it turned out he hadn't been lying. It was for a case and it certainly had helped. But this time it was different. Sherlock didn't want to be found and that made this incredibly difficult.

The door swung open, Mary rushed in hoping to see Sherlock standing in the door, only to be dissapointed. Molly was staggering in followed closely by the rest of the searching parties. John went and wrapped his arms around Mary. He was defeated. Greg ran his hands through his salt and pepper hair as he slid on to the couch next to Molly. Mrs. Hudson carried in the coffee and cookies in silently, she sat them on the small table by the windows. Everyone was quite for a long time. They just sat or stood drinking their coffee and sheepishly eating their cookies.

After almost 10 hours of searching and exhuasted each lead, Sherlock's friends had just aobut called it a night. A defeated Greg spoke up "I don't know where else to look. We've been _**everywhere**_. I have a search team out now looking for him. We should know someting by morning. Untill then I suggest we all go home and rest. We will need it."

They all agreed quitely. Just as John started turning out the lights he received a text. Without any explination he grabbed his jacket and threw it on as he rushed down the stairs and to his car. John sped off into the early morning light.


	2. Chapter 2

**I Wish I Had Known**

**CHAPTER 2:**

"1021 7th St NW Washington D.C. com alone"

John pulled up to the abandoned Warehouse Theatre around six in the morning. A dark figure sat on the curb. John knew it was Sherlock, even without having to look at the mess of curly black hair that sat atop his head. John shot out a mass text to everyone who he had seen tonight. It simply read, "Meet me at the lab. I have him"

He climbed out of the car and slowly crossed the street to sit next to Sherlock on the curb. John turned his head to look at his friend, who would not make eye contact with him. John nodded and stood up. He grabbed Sherlock just under the elbow, roughly pulling him to his feet, and dragged him to the car. John opened the back seat door and tossed Sherlock in with no remorse for any pain he had just cauased the man, then slammed the door. Taking a calming breathe John walked around the car to the wheel and got it. They sat in silence for a moment before the car was started. Once they had finally pulled into the street John could hear his friend sigh. A sigh that could only mean one thing, that he felt safe again. Well, John thought, not for long Mr. Sherlock Holmes. Just wait until Mycroft gets a hold of you.

John pulled up to a Starbucks and ordered seven plain black coffees. With the coffee secured in the passenger seat, they set of for Molly's lab. It would be a long drive. Long and very quite. John did not want to hear anything from Sherlock. Checking the rearview mirror John saw that he was fast asleep. Anger swelled in the doctor's stomach. He swerved hard to hit a dip in the road. This made Sherlock jump awake. Once he was sitting up John handed him a cup of coffee. John smiled to himself as he sipped his fresh cup. Sherlock groaned and rested his head against the chilled window.

Greg was standing outside the lab waiting for John to pull up. He helped get Sherlock inside the building. Once inside the large chemistry room, John started to hand everyone a coffee and he took the seventh for himself, since Mary couldn't drink. Sherlock slouched in a chair, his hair falling in his face. It was obvious he had not showered in days. There were blackish bags under each of this eyes, he had not been sleeping either. Sherlock had lost weight quite quickly so he hadn't be eating. John looked at him with much dissaproval. Molly stood in front of Sherlock holding back tears as she drew his blood. Greg, Mycroft, and Mary stood silently against the far wall by the door, in case Sherlock tried to run out. John highly doubted he had the strength or the energy to even try something so stupid and meaningless. Mrs. Hudson kneeled at Sherlock's side crying, and trying, without success, to smooth his disevelled hair. He must have gotten annoyed with her fidgeting, because he got up and sat on the counter next to John. They had been there for almost forty minutes before Sherlock looked at anyone. Unsuprisingly the first person's eyes he met were John's. He only shook his head at Sherlock and moved to the other side of the room to Molly.

"Well?" he said, "how bad is it this time Molls?"

Molly turned to John and scuffed. She ripped the pages out of the printer and headed straight for Sherlock. He looked up to met her eyes. His almost seemed sad, but more tired than anything. She stood there for a few seconds, as if deciding what she would do to him. Molly was to tired to deal with him in that moment. She threw the papers in face and turned on her heel storming out of the room.

No one moved. No one dared. John made eye contact with Mary for a split second only to look at Mycroft. Sherlock's older brother nodded and headed toward the papers that now lay on the floor. "Let's see here brother mine. What have you done to yourself this time"

Mycroft scimmed the papers. You could see the fury build as he went further down the page. Slowly he looked up at John. "Three. Three different and powerful drugs are in his system all in high doses. It's a wonder he is alive."

"What are they?" John demanded.

Mycroft cleared his throat and read straight from the page, "High trace evidence of cocaine, high trace evidence of heroine, and lastly high evidence of LSD. John I'm afraid to say this one is the worst I have ever seen. He most likely has no idea where he is. Sherlock might not even know who you are right now"

His gaze turned back to his brother coldly. "This is for your own good little brother." With that Mycroft slapped Sherlock hard acrossed the face. Hard enough to make everyone jumps and turn away. All except John. Mycroft nodded to him and strided out of the room. Greg ran after him without a sound.

John turned to Mary, "Will you take Mrs. Hudson home please. We will follow shortly. I going to stop by the house and grab myself some clothes. I'll be staying with him for a few days to get him back to noraml. Well as normal as Sherlock Holmes can get."

"Of course hon. We will see you soon." She kissed John goodbye and helped Mrs. Hudson out to the car. John stood across Sherlock for several minutes not saying anything. Just watching him. Sherlock looked up and started to watch John just the same.

"I don't know if you can hear me, and I don't know if you even know who I am at the moment, but I have something to say to you and you will listen to me. Nod if you understand" Sherlock nodded slowly. "Good. I don't know what you were thinking running off like that. And frankly, I don't give a shit. But if you _**ever**_ do that agian Sherlock, the drugs wont be what kills you, it will be me. You cannot keep doing this. I cannot lose you again. I can't" John's voice cracked on the last word. He swallowed his tears back.

John hung his head. He didn't know if Sherlock had heard or understood a word, either way it didn't help how lost he felt. How could Sherlock do this agian? Why would he? He has so many people that love him. Many different people that he could go to if he was on the edge. Hell! he could have called John and told him and he would have gotten on a flight home that very second. Mary would have understood. "John?" Sherlock's voice was small and childlike. John looked up to see that Sherlock was standing right in front of him now.

"John, I'm sorry. I should have called."

"Damn right you should have called. Now come on you need a shower and something to eat."

John helped Sherlock into the passenger seat of the car. By the time John slid into the driver's seat again, Sherlock was fast asleep. His soft snoring filled the car. Any other time John would have turned on the raido and listened to the news about the war, but this time he just listened to Sherlock. He had missed this. Sherlock used to fall asleep in John's car after a hard case. Those few moments over silent unsheltered Sherlock were his favorite moments. There was no mask held, there was no holding back, just pure Sherlock. The Sherlock only John got to see. Everyone else saw who Sherlock wanted them to see. An unforgiving sociopath. But John knew the truth. He knew that Sherlock Holmes did care. Sherlock Holmes was a human. More human than anyone gave him creidt for.

A short time later they pulled up to Baker street. John had stopped by his place to grab clothes. It took less than a minute so he decided not to wake Sherlock. Now that they were back home John gentally shook Sherlock from outside the car. Still drozy and still high Sherlock stumbled into the dark apartment. Mary sat on the couch looking worried. John gave her a wary smile that didn't touch his eyes and dragged Sherlock to the bathroom for a quick shower. Once the water was going and his friend was awake enough to go at it, John returned to the livingroom.

Mary looks up concerned. "How is he?"

"Yeah, good. He's good. In the shower now. Once he's is done he'll be off to bed. Should sleep most of the day tomorrow. That will be good, he looks like he needs it." John looked at his feet, running a hand through his hair he realized how truly tired he was. "I think it'd be smart for you to head home and get some rest Mary. I'll be around tomorrow to see you ok?"

She nodded, "you get some rest to hon. It's been a long day." With a small kiss Mary headed home. John sank into his chair and listened for the shower to stop. Sherlock noramlly took long showers but this one seemed to go on forever. Worried about him, John goes to the bathroom and knocks. "Sherlock? You okay in there?" with no answer John walks in. He sees Sherlock leaning against the wall asleep standing up. "Ok big guy come on time for bed"

John turned off the water and wrapped Sherlock in a towel. He lead them into Sherlock's bed room. Once the door was closed John lowered the soaked and nearly naked Sherlock onto the bed and covered him with the blankets. He shook his head trying not to laugh at his friend. When John was sure Sherlock was asleep again, he went to the living room to grab his red checkered chair and carry it beside Sherlock's bedside. The chair was heavier than he remembered, but that could be because of the lack of energy that the day had left him. He had been up for exactly 24 hours by the time he sat down in the small bedroom.

The sun was almost fully up now. Even with the windows and curtians were closed, John could hear the birds in the distance chirping their morning songs. Normally he would enjoy a nice cup of coffee with Mary outside and listen to them, but today he drifted off to sleep easily. Within seconds John was fast asleep.

The sun is low in the sky. The day is almost done when Sherlock stirs under his covers. Slowly he opens his eyes. It takes him a while to focus but when he does his eyes settle on John's peaceful sleeping face. Sherlock clears his throat slightly, "John?" John sighs and yawns a little only to fix his eyes on Sherlock with a glare. John opens his mouth to say...


	3. Chapter 3

I WISH I HAD KNOWN

Chapter 3

"You stubborn, pig-headed, moronic, mad-man!" John's face was so red Sherlock thought he had no blood left in the rest of his body. Sherlock knew the insults came from a good place but that didn't stop the volume or the words themselves from stinging. If anyone else was around John would have kept his mouth shut. Since it was only him and Sherlock he knew he could say anything. Sherlock stood, testing his balance. Once he was sure he had it, he grabbed the robe that hung just beside the bed and slipped it on. Without really looking at John, he walked down the short hallway and through the kitchen to the living room. He grabbed his violin and stood at the window testing how loud he could play without any pain.

Calmly John walked up behind Sherlock and took the violin from his hands. Sherlock stares at his empty hands and slowly turns to face John. Without looking, John safely places the instrument on the mantle place while pointing to Sherlock's personal chair, indicating that he wanted Sherlock to sit. Not wanting to jump at the order he looks around the apartment avoiding John eyes. Seeing no other option he silently sits on the edge of the seat.

John clears his throat and slowly turns to Sherlock, making extra careful to make eye contact for the first time today. He speaks softly, "I am going to ask you what happened six days ago, and I want you to answer me truthfully and leaving no detail unturned. Do you understand me Sherlock Holmes?" He nods and sighs "Of course John. I will answer anything you ask. You may not like the answer but it will be the truth"

"Good. Now start from the beginning, what happened exactly six days ago when you left this apartment with a bag?"

Thinking for a moment Sherlock decides to tell John everything. "I left in search of a fix. I knew my brother would not help me and as you were out of the country I had to use old means to get what I wanted. I took the bus downtown to a small drug den where I purchased several vials of heroin and a few baggies of cocaine and took away to an abandoned house that I own and used it all within hours. After I woke from the drug induced sleep I found that I had no more of what I needed. Once my head was clear I took out several hundred from my bank account and promptly purchased enough to keep me sustained for a number of days. By the time I heard that you were back and I was able to use my motor skills I promptly texted you my location and the rest as they say is history."

John stared dumbfound. He had not expected such a clear answer. There was something else he needed to know before this conversation went any farther. "Thank you for telling what you did. But the most important thing is _why._ Why would you do this to yourself?"

"Why? That is what you want to know? Why I did it? I just told you that I took out several hundred dollars to buy them and you want to know why. Not how much money. But simply why?"

"Yes, Sherlock. Do not look at me like I am crazy for wondering why on earth you would do something so stupid. It is a very reasonable question."

"Alright John. Why?" Sherlock ponders for a moment, trying to find the right words. "I suppose because I had nothing else to do. There was no case. You were gone. And I had no music to play."

John stood motionless. That could not be the right answer! There had to be more. But of course there was not. Sherlock was simply bored. "No, you don't get to blame my absence on this."

"I'm not blaming anyone for anything. I am a grown man I make my own choices with no one's help. Those are the causes to the decision I made. That is all. I am not blaming you for what I did. I am not a child John."

Suddenly the room got quite. Without wasting a second, John held out his empty hand signaling for any and all drugs Sherlock had. His eyes slide from John to the violin resting on the mantle. John turns it over in his hands, he spots a false back. Throwing a look at Sherlock, he removes the back and empties a few vials into the palm of his hand. _This isn't enough,_ thought John. "Where is the rest Sherlock?" rolling his eyes Sherlock mumbles "the shoes I wore yesterday" John fetches the rest of the drugs and walks downstairs to hand them off the Mrs. Hudson.

John returns to Sherlock after Mrs. Hudson had given what was left of the drugs to Mycroft. "Now that that is taken care of, get dressed. You won't be sitting around with no pants on when my wife gets here"

_**TWO HOURS PASS:**_

Sherlock clears the table so that they can all sit together easily. Mary sets three full plates on the table. "Sit. Both of you now" They sit silently for most of the meal. John nudges Mary under the table, eyeing her until she says something. "Sherlock, how are you feeling?"

He looks up. "I'm perfectly fine, Mary. Now John if you could keep from toeing your wife for a second that would be lovely. If you can't see she isn't feeling well. It seems pregnancy isn't agreeing with you, Mrs. Watson. Only four months along and you've gained 15 pounds, and you are very pale for someone who was just abroad for months."

Mary looks down at her plate chewing her lip nervously. Normally she would say something to him but she just didn't have the energy these days. Lucky for her, John was on hand, "Enough Sherlock. You are just lashing out and I will not stand for it. You apologize to Mary this second."

"I'm sorry Mary."

"It's alright Sherlock I understand. I have to go. I have a doctor's appointment in the morning. Will you be there?" she turns to John, waiting patiently for him to answer.

"I'll try. I have work tomorrow. If I can't make it, we will go for lunch ok?"

Mary smiles. She didn't want him to come to this one. There is no point, it was a simple checkup. "Of course darling" she kisses John good-bye but does not acknowledge Sherlock before she closes the door behind her.

John walks to the window to watch his loving wife climb into their car and drive off. Without looking, John knew Sherlock was sitting in his chair again. John had become custom to hearing the soft movements of Sherlock Holmes. He drifted down into his own chair, which had been moved back from the room to its proper place across for Sherlock. He studied his friend for a moment before saying, "You really do enjoy showing off, don't you?" there was a small smile playing on the corners his mouth. No matter how hard he tried he could never stay mad at his friend.

Sherlock locked eyes with John for a second before answering flatly, "Only for you Dr. Watson" he smirked watching John get up and had to the bathroom for a quick shower before bed. Once he was sure John could no longer hear him, Sherlock exhaled a large breath and murmured to himself one more time. "Only for you, John."

The second the shower turned on Sherlock relaxed in his chair. There was going to be painful days ahead. He could see it now.


	4. Chapter 4

I Wish I Had Known

Chapter 4:

The sun rises to the sound of John's feverish snoring. Sherlock will admit he hasn't exactly missed that sound, but it's nice to not be alone. Even if it was temporary. He offhandedly thought, _Maybe if I act like I'm worse off than I truly am he will stay longer._ Sherlock shook the thought away, calling himself ridiculous. John had a life outside of 221B now. He was a husband, and he would be a father in just five months. Still it would be nice to have him around more. Listening once more and not hearing a sound, Sherlock enters the kitchen to make a pot of coffee.

Just as the coffee finishes brewing, John enters the cluttered room. Sherlock has been busying himself by clearing most of the counter space. The doctor watches him out of the corner of his eye while he smells the coffee, searching for any trace of something that did not belong in the cup. Noticing nothing out of the ordinary he takes a small sip, so far so normal. Deciding that it was fine John padded down the hall and into the small but shockingly clean bathroom to start a shower.

Hearing the door click locked and the shower start, Sherlock rushes to his computer and hastily turns it on, in search of a case. It takes John no more than five minutes to shower so he would have to be quick if he was going to get away with this. Sherlock entered his password into his email and hit send. **Password is incorrect.** John must have changed it last night. Three minutes. Sherlock looked around, trying to find any hint of what the new password would be. Getting an idea he enters: sherlockgetsnocase. Enter. **Password is incorrect.** _Crap!_ One minute and he had no idea. The water stops. 30 seconds. Sherlock closes the computer without closing out of the email login, and sits in his chair pretending to read.

Showered and fully dressed John walks in towel drying his hair. He notices that Sherlock was worrying his inner cheek. He had tried to get into the email account. Smiling, John walks over to the computer to open it, eyeing his friend. "Couldn't figure it out then?"

"No. I don't see why you insist on me sitting on my hands. You know that is the worst thing you could do to me. I need to keep busy. Without it, my want for other mind altering opioids is greater than ever."

"You need to learn to live without either. That way when you do not have a case you don't feel the need to use. That is the only way to get over the desire of the fix."

"I don't _need_ it I _want _it. There is a difference John."

"Well good if it's just a want, then you can easily stop anytime you want to right?"

Sherlock shuffles in his seat, not meeting John's gaze anymore. The room falls into a silent haze for most of the day. Both men not wanting to upset the other, keep to themselves. John had decided that he would not go back to work today; instead Mary came by for a little while for lunch. After she had left and the two friends were alone again, things started to get back to normal. John answered some long put off emails, while Sherlock played his violin and read.

The sun began to set as John was finishing up his last email. Sherlock approached him cautiously. He stopped just to the side of the laptop. Once he had hit send, John looked up with a raise eyebrow. Taking this as a queue to speak, Sherlock slowly closed the computer resting his hand just on top of the lid with his pinkie on top John's. Both men stared at their touching hands. As if pulled by a thread both hesitantly met eyes. The seconds that pass seem to take hours. John is the first to break all contact. His head was swimming with all things Sherlock.

"So, I thought we might go out for dinner," says Sherlock, "might be good for me to get fresh air."

"Yes. Good idea. I'll just..um..get my coat and we will be off." Without another glance John walks rather speedily to his room to fetch his jacket off the desk chair. Five minutes later they were in a cab headed down Roosevelt Blvd toward their favorite Chinese restaurant.

They sat at the same table located towards the front of the dining room, just like they always do. They didn't even need to order anymore, they always had the same thing. The cooks would make it while the boys waited for their table to be cleaned. Once they had their food and had taken a few bites, Sherlock cleared his throat, waiting for John's attention. "I have grown tired of D.C. I think I'm going to move on. I have an opportunity in London at the Scotland Yard. They have been asking for years and I think now is a good time to say yes to it. What do you think, John?"

He swallowed the chicken he had forgot he was chewing on and stared at his friend. He wouldn't really move would he? Sherlock couldn't just get up and leave. Not now, there was so much left to be done, so much left to be said. John just stared at his plate. What would he do without his detective? "John? Please say something. I don't like the way you are just staring at your food like that. Tell me what you are thinking. I need to know."

John takes a steadying breath. He needed the right words, but he couldn't find them. Electing to say something, anything he says, "I would need to go with you." That's not what he had just thought. Not what he was going to say, but it's too late, the words are out there. His heart started to race. What if Sherlock didn't want him to go? What if Sherlock wanted to leave to get away from him? "I mean, who would help you? You've said it yourself you need an assistant. Who in London would do that for you? It couldn't be just anyone." he was stumbling over his own words. He sounded insane.

"I wouldn't go without you John. You're right it can't be just anyone. It _has _to be you. So you will go then? You would quit your job and move your growing family to London to live, just to go on working with me?"

"Yes. Yes of course I would Sherlock."

"Good. Then once the baby is born we will move to London to work."

"Alright. Hey are you going to eat that egg roll?" he already knew the answer. Sherlock never ate his second egg roll. After it was settled and the egg roll was passed over, they fell into light conversation about work and about Molly's boyfriend and if he was still in the picture. Sherlock doubted he was.

After supper they sat in their living room watching crap TV, making sarcastic comments to each other when it got to quite. Neither was truly paying attention to the show, they kept looking at each other sideways, as if waiting for the other to do or say something that would ease the tension. Finally when the show was over John turned off the TV and poured himself a tumbler of scotch and sat across from Sherlock. He set aside his violin that he had been tuning during the last part of the program and looked at John. Both men were silent. Sherlock bite the inside of his bottom lip, noticing that it was dry, he slowly ran his tongue over it, still looking at John. John's eyes widened just a bit and he swallowed hard. "Don't. You can't do that Sherlock."

Confused on what he meant, Sherlock pulled his eyebrows together ever so slightly. "Do what?"

Pointing to Sherlock's lips, "_That! _You can't lick your lips and stare at me like that. It's not ok"

"Why does it bother you?" Sherlock felt a small victory, that he had a small effect on John's brain.

"It doesn't," he lied. Sherlock knew he was lying but he wasn't going to say anything about it. The room was so quite John thought he could hear his heartbeat. He knew it was too fast. He thought that Sherlock might hear it and know that something was wrong. He couldn't just sit here anymore, he had to do something. John decided he would go to bed, that would be easier than anything else. "I will see you in the morning Sherlock. Good night"

He crossed the room, just as he got to the door Sherlock spoke up, "John will you wait a moment?" John carefully turned around to face the man. The two friends stood a room apart staring at each other. Taking a chance Sherlock closed the distance between them and wrapped his arms around John. "Thank you" he whispered. Smiling John put his arms around Sherlock's torso and holds him tight. They stand there for a few minutes before John needs to break away. With one last good night, he retires to his room.


End file.
